The Academy’s Weapon Replicator - Chapter 91

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Weapon Replicator of the Academy – Episode 91
Chapter 26: The Sacred Forest (3)
Selena blinked, her mouth still hanging open.
“Then this isn’t a forest at all?”
“It’s a forest. Flora and fauna live here, there are towering trees, and there’s a lake.”
“But you just said it was a dream.”
“Well, it is a dream summoned into reality.”
Magic is about manifesting phenomena. In that sense, this forest is a form of magic too.
That’s why non-mages sometimes mistake magic for mere illusion.
When you dispel the magic, the blazing flames vanish, and the frozen ice disappears in an instant.
But the burns and frostbite remain. It’s the same with this forest.
The flora and fauna within this forest have already formed their own ecosystem.
Of course, the entire system operates through Mana circulation, but most people would scarcely notice any difference from reality.
A dream nearly indistinguishable from reality that most cannot even differentiate from—backed by decades of history, known as the “Sacred Forest” and spoken of by countless lips.
It had existed far too long to be dismissed as mere illusion.
“Can an ordinary person even do something like that?”
“No. Merlin is an Archmage.”
“But still. Even if it is a dream, creating such an intricate world. Human Mana must have limits, yet maintaining this for decades…”
Selena’s doubts were reasonable. Truth be told, I hadn’t thought it possible to sustain something like this for decades either. As she said, human Mana reserves have finite limits.
There was something I could guess at, but I held my tongue for now.
“Anyway, let’s hurry. You’ve been whining, and we’ve wasted time.”
“…You really have a way with words, don’t you.”
Ignoring her sullen voice, I urged Cassian forward again.
After a while, something occurred to me, and I spoke.
“By the way, don’t assassins train against torture? You must have undergone conditioning.”
“Yes. The anguish, the pain—even the terror that pierces through all five senses. That’s why we’re taught not to divulge information, no matter how much we cry or beg.”
“So you’re trained to endure the pain?”
“That’s what they tell you at first—that it’s pain endurance training. But it wasn’t. They put you through suffering you cannot withstand. You cry, you plead, you scream, but it doesn’t end. But if you reveal information, the intensity only increases. Then that agony beyond all limits etches itself into your mind. After that, no matter how terrible the torture, no matter how much you weep and grovel, you won’t break. You remember that fear.”
…That’s a terrifying story.
I had nothing more to say, so I simply looked ahead in silence.
After a brief pause,
“Wait.”
Selena spoke.
“How did you know? That I’m an assassin. I only said I was a bodyguard.”
“You acted like one.”
As for the specifics, I’d used my Analysis skill.
“Shouldn’t you be more careful talking like that? About torture training and all. Won’t your superior Haglree get angry?”
“It doesn’t matter. Manggot is an ugly place. Everyone there knows it themselves. So there’s no need to hide ugly truths. We only need to conceal what truly must be hidden.”
“…”
I said nothing further in response.
Manggot is a wretched place.
A refuge for those abandoned by the nation, but also a place where hatred and resentment accumulate—where Karmic Flame will one day ignite.
That is quite literally Karmic Flame. The “karma” committed by the continent, and Manggot is that flame.
Of course, from a gamer’s perspective, beyond such calculations and emotional tangles, Monsters are already overwhelming enough—add Manggot throwing tantrums on top of that, and I want to tear my hair out.
That’s why I don’t want to fight. This is for the sake of clearing. If I keep getting tangled in meaningless conflicts, humanity in this world will be utterly destroyed.
Can Manggot and the continent ever make peace? That’s something I consider among the most impossible things I’ve failed at in this game.
“…But you know, the path keeps going straight.”
Selena spoke as if finding it strange.
“If we just follow it, will we really reach that lake?”
“No. Following it will only lead us to wander forever.”
This forest is Merlin’s dream.
Even this path, which looks like a straight line, twists strangely according to his thoughts, preventing us from reaching the lake.
That’s also why Merlin retreated without hesitation when he saw me holding Mjolnir.
He judged that preventing us from reaching the lake was more likely than fighting me and drawing blood.
“Then what do we do? Why do we keep going down this path?”
“Because I know the way.”
This forest is in fact a Trial that Aster will someday face.
Most players know how to clear this forest.
But truthfully, that’s only because Aster’s standing is high enough to earn Merlin’s recognition, so Merlin provided an appropriate difficulty level.
But as always, I am Frontdier.
There’s no way Merlin would hand over the Lake to someone like me, who knows where I’ve crawled out from.
‘But.’
I can see it. The mirage of this dream.
I’m seeing it through the Analysis skill, but my intuition reacted before that.
Perhaps because I possess the Weaving skill—something closer to illusion than anything else—this dreamworld carries a strangely familiar scent to it.
“Cassian. From now on, follow my lead.”
After I spoke, I gripped the reins lightly. Cassian understood and slowed his pace slightly. He really is an intelligent horse—sometimes it’s almost frightening.
‘……Sigh.’
I took in the entire landscape with my eyes. For now, this straight path ahead was the same as when I played as Aster.
When I was a player, Merlin would offer hints as I walked this route, but I had to find things out for myself.
The Analysis skill is indiscriminate in its targets. This world itself—provided it can be specified—is also subject to Analysis.
Until now, Analysis had read out supplementary descriptions like item tooltips.
But Merlin’s dream is surely similar to Frontdier’s Weaving. If I were Frontdier, I would be able to uncover the true nature of this dream.
Then,
“—Done.”
The analyzed dreamworld came into focus before my eyes. Just as weapons forged through Weaving are completed as fine threads intertwine, so too was this dream composed of countless strands of thread.
I led Cassian toward the revealed illusory landscape.
“……This way.”
I pulled the reins to the left. There were only dense trees ahead with no visible path. But Cassian pushed forward without hesitation, following my command.
In an instant, those dense trees split open. And the space transformed as if this had been the true path all along.
Like a mistake being corrected, an unfinished painting being hastily completed, a hidden space behind a theater curtain suddenly exposed.
“Ugh, I’m dizzy.”
Selena spoke. This sight was certainly bizarre enough to induce vertigo. It felt like watching a game glitch unfold before my eyes.
I continued guiding Cassian forward. Each time I turned, the trees parted and the path revealed itself. We were drawing steadily closer to the Lake.
“But, Lord of Manggot.”
“How many times do I have to say this? Call me Frontdier.”
“I was told you prefer being called Lord of Manggot.”
“Everything Manggot has on file about me is garbage. Consider it all trash.”
“Trash?”
“All lies.”
Selena didn’t respond to my words. Instead, I felt the sensation of her head against my back. She must have nodded.
“Then, Frontdier.”
“What?”
“If this is Merlin’s dream, can’t he rearrange the Lake’s location as he pleases? If so, wouldn’t it be difficult to reach it even if we find the correct path……?”
It was a reasonably sound theory.
She’d thought that far after realizing this was a dream. Selena’s adaptability was faster than I’d expected.
But her reasoning was mistaken.
“Moving the Lake is impossible.”
“Why?”
“Because the Lake is real.”
“……Ah.”
Everything surrounding us that we see right now is Merlin’s dream.
But the Lake alone is genuine.
In other words, Merlin designed this entire dream for that single Lake.
Crack—
At that moment, the appearance of the trees transformed grotesquely.
The ordinary landscape warped, and the trees extended their branches with absurd scale. Thick trunks twisted, and the gaps between them grinned like the corners of a human mouth.
“Um, uh, Frontdier……?”
Selena let slip a voice fraught with unease.
“Merlin was certain of something.”
“Of what?”
“That we know the path exactly. That it’s impossible to make us lose our way.”
So he’s decided to push through with force one more time. Only this time, he’s hiding his true form and doing it relatively safely.
Already the trees had swollen their bodies considerably into shadows. In the forest that had darkened in an instant, enormous trees bore down with hunched backs.
“……This is a dream anyway, so wouldn’t it be fine even if we got hit?”
“What do you think? If we get hit, what do you suppose happens?”
“I think it would hurt terribly.”
I nodded.
“As long as you can’t escape that thought, it will hurt terribly.”
Damn it, Selena muttered and drew a Needle from her bosom.
Good riddance to the false modesty, though it felt like courtesy had vanished alongside it.
* * *
Merlin stood before the Lake.
Within this forest, he sensed everything—even the faint breath of a passing bird.
Frontdier was already drawing near. The trees had slowed him, but arrival was merely a matter of time.
[What am I to do?]
The murmur carried weight—not mere idle words spoken into the void, but something resonant with intent.
[Why concern yourself so?]
The water at the center of the Lake, where Merlin gazed, surged upward.
Where it fell again, a woman emerged—her ascent from the depths eerily mirroring Merlin’s own rise from the earth.
[I have failed to guard the Lake.]
Merlin said.
[It matters not.]
The woman of the Lake replied.
[Whoever reaches this place shall claim nothing. Of that you can be certain.]
The woman of the Lake laughed.
[Recklessness begets only death.]
Then came the sound.
Thud-thud-thud-thud—a rhythm both Merlin and the woman of the Lake recognized, growing closer with each beat.
Hoofbeats.
Crack!
Bursting through the grass was none other than Frontdier.
His clothes bore the marks of fierce combat—torn and tattered in places—yet no wound seemed truly grave.
“Huff… huff….”
The woman riding behind him, by contrast, looked half-dead.
“Come on, don’t hang there like that. We’ve arrived.”
Frontdier chided the woman behind him.
“That’s cowardly. You barely take any damage, and I’m left dodging while fighting.”
“Because it’s an illusion. If you truly understand that, you can avoid harm.”
“I tried, I did. Telling myself over and over it’s an illusion, it’s false, that I believed it—so why do I keep getting hit?”
“It’s not belief. It’s knowledge.”
Merlin listened to their exchange in silence, then furrowed his brow.
An illusion? No damage taken?
So Frontdier’s survival was because he had pierced through the ‘dream’?
That couldn’t be.
“Ah.”
Frontdier had finally noticed Merlin. His eyes flickered to the woman of the Lake as well.
“We meet again, Merlin. And…”
Frontdier’s gaze fixed on the woman, and a dark smile spread across his face.
“I’ve searched long for you. The Witch of the Lake.”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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